


taking me to your secret

by dancinghopper



Series: the stephanie hyde cinematic universe [3]
Category: That '70s Show
Genre: F/F, fem!hyde, genuinely i dont have tags for this its just like... 2.5k words of them being horny and in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 06:36:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21222194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancinghopper/pseuds/dancinghopper
Summary: missing scene from soul dancing in the dark





	taking me to your secret

**Author's Note:**

> good EVENING how are we all doing tonight. this was initially a scene in soul dancing but it took on a life of its own so here it is? but it takes place directly after 4 so you might wanna refresh with that before reading..... they’re gettin it on folks! 
> 
> fair warning i KNOW it fades to black at a slightly annoying moment but this is my first time writing this sort of thing ok!!! and it was hard!! i tried!! think of it like that bit in fleabag s2 where she pushes the camera away as they have sex. its like that

_**summer**_.

Jackie’s bedroom is still just as garishly girly as Hyde remembers, all cluttered tabletops and magazine cut-outs plastered onto the walls. There’s so much _stuff_, it’s like walking into Jackie’s brain. At least the number of stuffed animals and dolls has declined — first time Hyde came in here, it was like being in the damn taxidermy section of a museum. Creepy as hell. And yeah, some things haven't changed. The carpet’s still an eye-watering shade of pink, for instance, it’s just that now Hyde’s dripping all over it.

“Sorry, sorry!” says Jackie frantically, bustling about in only her bikini. It’s blue with pink flowers, and Hyde feels kind of guilty for even looking at it. Jackie's hair is wet, and little water droplets keep falling from it and running down her back. Hyde has to look away from all the expanse of _skin_, somewhat disbelieving that Jackie feels comfortable in full view of her like that. She repositions the clothes in her arms so that they hide her own body a little better, even though it means getting them kind of damp.

“Here.” Jackie passes her a fluffy white towel, smiling apologetically. Her teeth are so _white_. “Sorry. I should have thought of this before I made you get into the pool.”

Hyde shrugs, deliberately nonchalant, though it takes a hell of an effort. “’S cool.”

Jackie wraps her own towel around herself, flushing lightly and pulling at its hem. “So, um, did you want to shower?”

Hyde nods. Jackie points her in the direction of the en suite (_en suite_, she’s dating a girl with an _en suite_). It’s not pink, thankfully. Hyde would rate it just above the Pinciotti’s in terms of classiness, but admittedly that doesn’t say much, ‘cos Bob’s got about as much class as a hooker. Still, the water works, and as far as Hyde’s concerned that’s all a shower needs to do. Doesn’t even have to be hot, though Jackie’s is. She uses Jackie’s flowery shampoo and conditioner and doesn’t think about Jackie naked whatsoever.

At least she brought an overnight bag. Hyde’s not stupid, she knows what Jackie meant when she said her parents were out of town. Still, she doesn’t wanna be presumptuous, so she changes into her spare clothes. Her bra’s ruined from wearing it in the water, and she hangs it over the edge of Jackie’s bathtub to dry, deciding she can go without. It's faded and old and out of place next to the fancy soaps, and she thinks that sums her and Jackie up pretty well.

Jackie takes her turn in the shower next while Hyde rifles through her records for something decent, wondering what the hell else they’re gonna do with the day. Maybe they’ll have a circle. Jackie’s kitchen must be stocked full of snacks that’ll be good for the cravings, and Hyde’s got no qualms about eating a rich man’s food. Jackie might even want to paint Hyde’s nails.

Hyde smirks to herself. Fat chance.

Eventually Jackie emerges from her shower, back in her summer dress and her hair blowdried to perfection. Hyde had just scrubbed at her own with the towel and hoped for the best — Jackie looks like she was never even in the water.

“Hi,” says Jackie, slipping her arms around her as Hyde deliberates between two records. Jackie’s cheek presses against her shoulder, warm and soft, and she interlaces her fingers over Hyde’s stomach, thumbs hooked through the belt loops.

“Your music taste sucks,” says Hyde, discarding the one in her left hand. Jackie makes a fed-up sounding noise, and unlaces her fingers to pinch Hyde's arm. This isn’t exactly a new argument, is in fact one of Hyde’s favourites to have. She’s gotta admire Jackie at least a little bit for sticking so vehemently to her guns, even if it does come with the sacrifice of thinking disco is good.

“I’ve got Cris Williamson,” suggests Jackie, her lips moving against Hyde’s skin.

“Who the hell’s that?”

“She’s a folk singer.” Jackie lets go of her to find the record. Hyde’s sorted them into two piles: crap and possibly-bearable-crap. Williamson comes out of the latter, but Hyde’d only put it there ‘cause the album cover didn’t have light flares. “It’s quite good, you’ll like her.”

“You wanna listen?” continues Jackie, getting it out without waiting for an answer. She handles the record delicately, with light fingertips pressing gently on the edges so as not to scratch it. Hyde had once had the naive idea that 'cause Jackie had money she didn't actually care about her stuff, preferring to just buy something again if she ruined it. But Jackie likes shiny things, and Hyde reckons she likes being the one to keep them shiny, and she does that through handling them with love. “We might as well hang out up here for a bit.”

“Sure.”

She sits on Jackie’s bed, a little awkward, and watches Jackie set up the record. Her dress is some flowy, light-weight material that hangs off her shoulders and swishes about her legs, like a fairy dress. Hyde wants to tear it off with her teeth.

“There,” says Jackie, pleased, and comes to lie with her on the bed, face turned to the ceiling. She reaches out and tugs on Hyde’s arm. “Come here, Stephanie.”

Hyde settles down next to her, piano sounds drifting over her. She guesses it doesn’t totally suck.

“Huh,” she says, conceding, and Jackie smiles.

“I listened to this a lot this year,” she confesses. She bites her lip, and twists onto her side, slipping one hand up under her head. “It always made me think of you.”

Hyde turns her head. Jackie’s very close.

“Think of me a lot, did you?” she teases, and Jackie shrugs. Hyde doesn’t know what to say to that, so she keeps quiet, watching as Jackie’s eyes roam over her face, searching for something.

“Thanks for getting in the pool,” she says eventually. Hyde shrugs her shoulders. The rustle of fabric sounds too loud in her ears, the sound uncomfortable and jarring even over the music.

“Whatever,” she says.

It wasn’t whatever, actually. Hyde hates the water. It’s stupid and means she has to show her legs. She doesn’t tell Jackie that, though, because she’ll think it means something that it doesn’t. Joining Jackie in the pool was just the path of least resistance, even if Hyde does seem to sacrifice a lot of her principles when it's for Jackie. Whatever. There’s a little bit of moisturiser by Jackie’s ear that she smoothes away without thinking. Her skin’s hot, and her fingers linger on her cheek for just a beat too long.

“Uh,” says Hyde, voice low, and withdraws her hand. She’s gotta distract herself, before she screws up the one not-sucky thing going on in her life right now. After all, Jackie might’ve changed her mind, or balked at the thought of doing it with a girl. “What time do your parents get back tomorrow?”

“Oh, late.” Jackie pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. Red blossoms in the centre of it. “Stephanie?”

“Mm?”

“Are we gonna have sex?”

Hyde swallows. The space between her and Jackie is sizzling like the desert air, or that one really hot summer they had when she was a kid and spent the entire time at Forman's eating icy poles. This summer’s been pretty hot too, but that's mostly just ‘cause of Jackie. “Think so.”

Jackie lets out a very long, slow breath that flickers on Hyde’s cheek, her lips ticking upwards. “Okay. Do you want to?”

Hyde’s gaze flicks the ceiling, and she clears her throat. She thinks of Jackie in her bikini and the way Hyde wants to kiss her all over and then some, leave marks high on her collarbone. The back of her neck heats up.

“Jackie,” she says, “you’ve been driving me crazy all damn day. ‘Course I want to.”

“Oh.” Jackie looks pleased. She reaches out and puts her hand on Hyde’s neck, fingers cool against her skin, and Hyde’s heart does something weird. “I wanna, too.”

“Cool,” mumbles Hyde. Jackie giggles suddenly, her expression looking so overwhelmingly happy that it makes Hyde uncomfortable. She kisses her to get it off her face, shifting her body to cover Jackie’s and propping herself up on her elbow.

“Now?” she checks, and Jackie rolls her eyes, the answer obvious. She kisses her again, bites softly on her lower lip.

“Tell me if anything don’t feel right or you wanna stop, okay?”

“Okay,” breathes Jackie. She hooks her fingers round Hyde’s neck, and draws her back in. Her lips are soft, her lip-balm’s getting all over Hyde’s face, and she can feel Jackie’s smile mingling with her own. She puts her hand on Jackie's waist, fingers twisting in her fabric, and pulls her closer, lazily dropping kisses on her mouth, her cheek, her neck. 

Jackie tugs on her hair, impatient, and cants her hips upwards. Hyde — well, alright, maybe her breath stutters, so what? The rules of aloofness don’t apply so much when she’s in bed. It’s just a natural reaction. Jackie grins wider though, ‘cause she’s smug like that.

“That’s how it is?” mutters Hyde, best attempt at sardonic as she can manage with stars in her eyes, and Jackie giggles some more, insistent hands saying _that’s how it is_. “Your funeral, doll.”

She kisses her harder, tongue this time, and Jackie gasps, fingers clenching in her hair and nails scraping along her scalp. Hyde’s kissed Jackie a lot this summer, and she’s kissed a couple of girls before her — she knows what she’s doing, but it’s gratifying anyway. She puts her hand flat on Jackie’s back, between her and the mattress, and pulls them together so their chests touch.

Jackie makes a high-pitched noise against her lips, and arches her back into the touch. “God, _Stephanie_.”

Her hands abandon Hyde’s hair, scrabbling for her t-shirt instead and tugging desperately on it. Hyde laughs, puts one last kiss to Jackie’s neck before sitting to remove it. Jackie sits up with her, more hindering than helping, her hands dancing over Hyde’s and getting tangled.

Hyde gets it off and Jackie heaves a breath, face pink and glistening and eyes nowhere near Hyde’s face. She bites her lip, and then reaches out and puts a fingertip lightly on Hyde’s breastbone, barely touching, and trails it down her sternum to her bellybutton, leaving goosebumps in her wake. Jackie hesitates, hand hovering over her stomach. “Can I touch you?”

“Good Christ,” grits out Hyde. She grabs at Jackie’s waist, pulling her into her lap. “Yes — fuck, yes.”

Jackie beams and kisses her again, long and dirty, and they roll back onto the mattress. Hyde’s never — she’s fucked before, sure, but it’s never been quite like this. She doesn’t think it’s supposed to feel this good.

She manoeuvres her leg between Jackie’s, lets her rock against it, and slides her hand into Jackie’s hair. There’s so many goddamn layers to her dress, it’s like having a freakin’ sheet between them, and she's not really in the position to do anything about it. She nudges Jackie gently, pushing upwards, and Jackie gets the message and rolls off her. Hyde follows in tandem, switching with her so she's on top and kissing her neckline.

“Steph—Stephanie,” gasps Jackie, hands tight on her shoulders, as Hyde’s hand finally reaches the end of her stupid skirt. She rucks it up around Jackie’s hips, palm sliding up the entire length of her leg, a little pleased at how Jackie's trembling under her. 

“I got ya, doll,” she mutters against her collarbone. She dances her fingers around the top of Jackie’s thigh, stroking her skin lightly. Jackie jerks, pushing herself into Hyde’s hand, and it feels really fucking good.

“Stephanie,” says Jackie again, just a touch of irritation in her voice. Her nails are gonna leave little marks in her shoulders, and Hyde doesn’t care at all. “Hurry up.”

“Always knew you’d be bossy in bed,” says Hyde, slipping her fingers inside her panties. She trails her fingertips over her, hovering, and Jackie whimpers. “Knew you couldn’t ever shut up.”

“Jerk,” chides Jackie, but she’s smiling. Her voice is all whiny and breathless, and Hyde’d pretty much listen to anything that came out of her mouth right now, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still wanna shut her up. She slips her hand lower, touches her properly, and Jackie gives a shaky exhale against her neck, something a lot closer to a moan.

She starts drawing circles with her thumb, first two fingers sliding slick against Jackie, and grins.

“You’re still talking,” she says, even though Jackie isn’t anymore. Her eyelashes flutter, and she looks so damn beautiful that it almost takes Hyde out of it. How the hell did she get here, she wonders, from letting Jackie paint her nails and grill her about her love life that one time? Where the hell does this fit in to the cosmic game of chess?

She watches Jackie bite her lip, feels her hands on Hyde’s skin, feels _her_, and she thinks that, really, it doesn’t matter.

***

After, and after Jackie has a valiant first attempt that, in Hyde’s books, certainly gets an A for effort (she came, sure, but embarrassingly that was mostly just ‘cause it was _Jackie_ touching her, and not anything about the technique), she finally tunes back in to the record Jackie had set to play. She’s flat on her back, breathing hard, and Cris Williamson’s crooning finally gets into her eardrums.

“Hang on,” says Hyde, and frowns. Her voice sounds hoarse even to her own ears, and she clears her throat. “Jackie, man, she’s singing about a chick.”

Jackie gives this stupid, blissed out smile, head propped up on her hand.

“Yeah, she’s a lesbian,” she says. She’s trailing her fingertips over Hyde’s collarbone, tracing little love hearts on her skin and looking proud of herself. 

“Huh,” says Hyde, thoughtful. Jackie raises an eyebrow.

“Proud?”

She mulls it over. “’S better than The Captain and Tennille.”

Jackie rolls her eyes, but she’s still all glowy around the edges. Hyde thinks she probably is, too.

“What_ever_, disco-hater,” says Jackie, “You just don’t have any taste.”

Hyde grins, tongue poking out between her teeth. “Must be why’m dating you.”

“Oh, _you_—" starts Jackie, indignant, and Hyde leans up to kiss her again.

As it is, everything's just really fucking good.

**Author's Note:**

> cris williamson is like. 70s lesbian mitski and i love her. it is undeniably NOT good music to have sex to but whatever i wanted to give her a shoutout so like....call it artistic licence ?
> 
> anyway yes i am writing some things through s5 but im indecisive and cant choose whether i want to do a 25 multi chap with a one shot for every episode or just bang it all into one huge 50k one chapter fic with a title (like this). you know what im talking about. so like please cast ur votes in the comments i guess??? whatevs tho & i hope u enjoyed this even tho it was just shameless horny summer goodness. u can blame the jenny slate special i watched last night
> 
> much love!!XX


End file.
